


smiling like a hero sent from hell

by Accipitae



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blood, Character Study, Drabble Collection, Futago Siblings, Gen, Guilt, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accipitae/pseuds/Accipitae
Summary: The path to hell is paved with necessary evils.
Kudos: 9





	smiling like a hero sent from hell

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little collection of Goro drabbles as they come to me. I’ll update the tags as needed. Will have very sporadic updates.

The water in the sink went from clear to red to pink and he scrubbed his hands raw and aching. Obsessively he rubbed each knuckle, the pad of each finger tip, scratching at his palms and dragging his nails over the irritated skin until it turned bright red as he tore open old scars.

This didn’t happen every time he killed, but sometimes, cases like these,  _ people who didn’t fucking deserve it,  _ he had to wash the sin off his hands.

Goro wondered what the woman had done to earn Shido’s wrath. Was she like Wakaba? An obstacle that stood in the way? One that could be removed with a well placed bullet? Or was she like his mother? A threat to his reputation. A loose end that needed to be snipped away before the man’s proclivities could come back to bite him in the ass.

Goro absently wondered how many other half siblings he had out there.

Given how thorough the man was, probably not many.

Once again Akechi Goro was the exception to the rule.

His mother wasn’t.

He hadn’t realized the trend until he was far too deep in this shit, but once Shido handed him a pair of proverbial scissors and told him to snip away, things started to make a lot more sense. He hadn’t had Goro yet, back then, so suicide always seemed to be the route he chose. Wakaba stepping out in front of a moving car, hollow words and an even hollowed suicide note. A story that rang of falsehoods and lies that only Goro seemed to hear.

He’d been young when his own mother died. Too young to remember things clearly. But he remembered the blood, he remembered the note with ink smeared in teardrops and maskira. He remembered the front door being unlocked even though mother always always insisted it remained bolted.

But then again, she had been fragile and jagged as glass, broken with razor edges peaking through. A doll full of shrapnel and despair just waiting for it to end.

He wouldn’t blame her if she had chosen to go out on her own terms.

But still, but still.

His shaking hands and the gun in his briefcase said otherwise.

Akechi Goro was only certain of a handful of things.

One, that Shido Masayoshi ordered the death of Isshiki Wakaba, and most likely his own mother too.

Two, that everything that came in touch with that man fell to ruin, and so Goro wasn’t going to let him anywhere near his little sister.

And three, that Akechi Goro was going to kill Shido, and destroy himself in the process.

The water in the sink finally ran clear.

  
  
  



End file.
